


TITLE 28 ARTICLE 217*2

by obiwamkenobbly (emmykay)



Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: Gen, Office Shenanigans, Past Holtzmann/OC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:09:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25943368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmykay/pseuds/obiwamkenobbly
Summary: The Ghostbusters have just moved into their dream building.  Unlike dreams, New York City has actual code enforcement officers.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 21
Collections: CAILURE EXCHANGE 2020





	TITLE 28 ARTICLE 217*2

**Author's Note:**

> FOR #6
> 
> Title refers to the NYC Administrative Code for Construction, TITLE 28 Article 217*2 - FAILURE TO CERTIFY CORRECTION OF CERTAIN IMMEDIATELY HAZARDOUS VIOLATIONS 
> 
> https://nycadmincode.readthedocs.io/t28/c02/art217_2/index.html
> 
> Finding this link has been the sum of my research for this fic.

"Hey," Kevin said, walking through the doorway of the office in their brand new-to-them former firehouse/now ghostbusting headquarters and into the first floor workroom.

"Yeah, Kev?" answered Abby absently, as she and Erin were looking down at the mess of wires and metal sheeting on her work table. She had gotten an idea of how to better improve the closure of the containment system, and maybe get it a better form of shielding while she was at it. She had been working with Erin over it for the past several hours. At another table, Patty sat at her audio station, headphones on, carefully taking notes.

"Someone's here to see you." He smiled.

"Great," she said.

A statuesque blonde, so attractive that even in a dull brown pantsuit couldn't stop Abby from an appreciative blink, stepped out from behind Kevin. "I'm an inspector from the City's Department of Buildings."

"An inspector?" Erin asked, tearing her eyes away from Kevin.

The blonde did not smile as she proffered an official-looking badge. "Vilma Ehrlinspiel, Department of Buildings."

With a look at everyone else's expressions, Patty took off her headphones. "What?"

"Welmarinmayer, Department of Bootlings," Kevin said.

Abby shut her eyes for a minute. He does try, sort of. And Erin liked him. Whatever. "She's Vilma Ehrlinspiel, Department of Buildings. An inspector from the city."

"I called and made an appointment," said Vilma Ehrlinspiel.

Abby took Kevin by the arm. "She made an appointment?"

"Yeah," he smiled. "I have it in your calendar."

"I don't have a calendar," she said. "I don't think there has been any setup of any calendars."

"Your appointment calendar that I keep on my phone." His phone had a picture of himself barechested holding a hammer as his lockscreen. _Of course it does,_ Abby thought. He scrolled on the screen until a small green calendar, marked 'Abbie Work' appeared. The only thing on the calendar was today's appointment. He showed her with a flourish. "See?"

"First of all, that is not how I spell my name. Second, have you ever shared that with me? Kev?"

He blinked at her, blue eyes as innocent and mild as a child's. "I put it on the calendar."

"Of course you haven't."

"I also sent a letter confirming the inspection," said Vilma Ehrlinspiel. "Two weeks ago."

"What happens to the mail?" Patty asked. "I don't think we've ever gotten any mail here."

"Oh, yeah. I put it in the circular file."

"What is the circular file, Kev?" asked Erin, the wince barely audible in her voice. Abby was glad to see Erin was not completely blinded by the pretty.

"Here," he said, pointing to the rectangular metal box with the recycling symbol on it. He smiled. "I learned that's what Americans call that kind of paper filing system. It's funny because it's not a circle."

Before Abby could speak, Erin grabbed her arm. "He's doing the best he can. He's foreign!"

"They speak English in Australia, I'm pretty sure," Abby hissed back. "We have not gotten any mail in weeks! No bills, no junk mail, nothing. I knew it was too good to be true!"

Vilma Ehrlinspiel looked around, a long, slow perusal, seemingly having taken the measure of the messy workroom, dominated by several tables that were covered in a variety of electrical parts, scraps of burned clothing, discarded tools, irregularly stacked boxes that overflowed with books from their recent move, and lots and lots of incompletely assembled shelving. "You never sent in your updates plans for adaptations to the city. We have had calls from concerned citizens about the noise."

"What noise?" asked Erin, sliding around the workroom, trying to stand in front of the messiest of the worktables with her arms outstretched while simultaneously looking like she wasn't.

"-the sounds of construction, the shrieks in the night, the unusual brightness visible through the windows, the ground tremors - "

"Don't worry about that. That's just Holtzmann," said Patty.

Vilma Ehrlinspiel blinked. "Holtzmann? Jillian Holtzmann?"

"Do you know her?" Erin asked, sounding hopeful.

"Dr. Jillian Holtzmann?" Vilma Ehrlinspiel asked.

"Yes, that's her," Abby said. Maybe it was good that the inspector knew Holtzmann. Maybe?

"In a manner of speaking." Vilma Ehrlinspiel reached into her bag and pulled out a tablet and began tapping on the screen. "In a previous workplace, Jillian Holtzmann had been cited over -" she checked the screen of the tablet, "- 213 times - "

Of course it was not good that the inspector knew Holtzmann. _Damn it._ Abby had known working with Holtzmann was going to be something of an issue, but the rewards had been so worth it. It did help to never get the mail. Or pick up the phone. Or check email.

"Over 200 times?" Erin said, aghast. 

"213," Vilma Ehrlinspiel specified. "Within the leases she held -"

"How long were those leases?" asked Patty, who had worked her way over to where Abby and Erin were standing. This was good, Abby thought. Patty knew stuff. "You can rack up a lot of things over a long time. Regulations change, and what was okay code once is not acceptable later. And if that was done by a previous tenant, the current tenant can't be responsible. Stuff like that is in the papers all the time."

"Over the period of a single calendar year - "

"One year?" said Erin, newly aghast.

" - she had been responsible for work done at multiple previous addresses. It appears she is still in arrears for all of those violations."

"You mean she owes the city money?" Patty translated.

Vilma Ehrlinspiel nodded.

"How much money?" Abby asked.

"No less than one thousand five hundred dollars and no more than five thousand dollars - "

"That's not bad," Erin said, obviously trying to look on the bright side of things.

"Per violation."

"That's not good." Patty looked concerned. 

Abby straightened. "But this has nothing to do with our building, does it?"

"Those don't, no. But there are pending violations on this address."

"What can we do?" Abby asked.

A tight smile appeared on Vilma Ehrlinspiel's lips. "I will need to discuss that with her. Do you have a lawyer?"

"Wait, wait," Erin said, gripping the corner of the table tightly. "We can talk to the mayor. He said we can call on him any time for any thing."

Vilma Ehrlinspiel said, "I'm sure the citizens of New York City will be pleased to know the Mayor of New York City, home of the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory Fire, one of the deadliest fires in American history, is soft on violations of building code by a bunch of women who chase fake ghosts, just in case anything burns down in his watch."

"Wow," Patty whispered to Abby. "I thought she was real pretty when she came in, but she is not looking so good right now."

A muffled boom and thud shook the walls around them. A high pitched shriek came down the stairs and through the open door, followed by a lick of blue flame. The Trammp's "Disco Infero" howled through the building.

"Oh no," Erin muttered. She winced so hard, her eyes shut.

This was not good. Not good at all.

"Hello, ladies," Holtzmann said as she swaggered into the door, hips shaking in time to the beat. "You won't believe it, but I just created a new - "

"Kind of violation," interrupted Vilma Ehrlinspiel, advancing upon Holtzmann. "And yes, I would believe it."

In her hurry to intercept Holtzmann and possibly soften any consequences of Vilma Ehrlinspiel's contact with her, Abby bumped the table. An ipod fell to the ground, and the first few bars of Fergie's "London Bridge" boomed over the mounted bluetooth speakers.

"Oh, shit," muttered Erin, scrambling to grab the ipod and shut it down.

Holtzmann startled and then froze. "Ehrlinspiel?"

"Holtzmann."

"Oh, shit," whispered Patty. "That's intense."

Holtzmann's face did a thing, like a wriggling of facial muscles that should have looked like a smile, but did not. "Imagine, meeting up like this again. Long time no see, huh?"

"Too long." Vilma Ehrlinspiel's face was stony.

"When was the last time? The explosion with the hydrofluoric?"

"No. Try again."

"The acid leak that melted the wires and caused the sparking?"

"Not that, either."

"For the life of me, I can't stop watching," said Abby, eyes rounded behind her glasses. "I think I should, but I can't."

"Me neither," said Patty.

"I know what you mean," replied Erin.

"You know, I don't know if I can remember - " Holtzmann said, raising a hand to her chin.

"Maybe it was when I planned that vacation to Paris and we were going to meet at the airport and you couldn't even be bothered to call me. After all the calls to your phone. All the cold dinners waiting for you. All the nights working to minimize your code violations. And you couldn't call me back to tell me that you couldn't make the flight." 

"I was working, Ehrlinspiel! My life's work!"

"That breakthrough meant more to you than I did!"

"No, not that," Holtzmann said. "You don't understand - "

The dark eyes glinted. "I was going to propose!"

"Oh, shit," muttered Abby, Patty and Erin together. It was like watching a car wreck, terrible and yet they could not look away.

"Jillian, I hope you have solved that problem with the radioactive shields," said a stern voice from the doorway.

Every single head whipped over to the tall, stern person who just walked in. She radiated authority in her goggles and coat, completely ignoring the rest of the scene she had entered.

"Right," said Holtzmann, her demeanor completely changing to one of ardent worship. "I was working on it."

"You know what I always said, Jillian. Insufficient protection is - "

"Insufficient," finished Holtzmann, eyes glittering behind the yellow cast of her goggles.

"Who is this?" asked Vilma Ehrlinspiel, ruffled. She glanced over. "Jillian? _Jillian? JILLIAN?_ "

"It's Dr. Rebecca Gorin to see you," Kevin said, helpfully, bobbing in behind Dr. Gorin. 

Kevin got Dr. Rebecca Gorin's name right, Abby thought ruefully. Was it majesty of personality? Her ability to enunciate? Her height? What was it?

"Anyone want coffee? I can make some," he offered.

"Yes," said Erin, thirstily.

"No!" said Abby. "I can't let you! Not his coffee."

"Yes, his coffee," replied Erin.

"I would like some," said Dr. Gorin. She graced Vilma Ehrlinspiel with a sharp glance. Abby knew what it was like to be on the receiving end of a look like that, scary but shivery. "And you?"

"Oh. Oh. I don't know. Maybe?" Vilma Ehrlenspiel dithered.

"What is your name?"

"Vilma Ehrlinspiel."

Patty raised an eyebrow. "Is she batting her eyelashes?"

"I can't tell," Abby said. "Oh my god, what is that smell?"

She sniffed again. A terrible burning smell filled the workspace. Abby turned her head to see the smoke pouring out of the Keurig that sat in the reception space. Kevin frowned. "I don't know what happened. I put in the water and coffee is supposed to come out."

"Where did you put in the water, Kev?" Abby asked.

"Here." He pointed.

"That's where the little cup goes." Erin helpfully lifted the lid. "See, there's a lip that sticks out there."

Kevin looked. 

Afraid, but feeling like she needed to know, Abby asked, "Where did you put the coffee?" 

"I dumped some into this hole, here."

"That's where the water goes," Patty said. "I don't even have a coffee machine and I know that."

Suspicious, Abby asked, "How long have you been making coffee this way?"

"I don't know, since months." Kevin shrugged and batted the entire Keurig into the steel trash can with a resounding clang. 

After a moment of silent reflection, Dr. Gorin said, "This is taking much too long. Do you want coffee?" she asked Vilma Ehrlinspiel.

"Yes, I guess. If I can?" Vilma Ehrlinspiel said.

"She is batting her eyelashes," Erin confirmed.

"Good. Let's depart," Dr. Gorin commanded.

"I think there's a place on the corner," Holtzmann said, following them closely.

It wasn't but a moment after the door closed behind Dr. Gorin, Vilma Ehrlinspiel, and Holtzmann, that the entire trash can, Keurig and all, burst into flames.

Abby grabbed a fire extinguisher and sprayed it over the trash can, and then Erin dropped a lid on top. 

"Is that the new shielding we were working on?" Abby asked.

"Yes. It was the first thing I grabbed," Erin replied. "Besides, it'll be a good test."

Abby waited a few tense minutes before checking to see if the fire had been put out. "Not bad. Good shielding." It was nice to know her initial thought on better layering techniques worked.

"Thank God it happened now and not earlier!" Patty exclaimed. "Can you imagine? A trashcan fire with the Inspector in the building? On top of that million dollar violations charge?"

"I can't believe the three of them went out for coffee just now," Erin said.

Patty considered. Turning to Abby, she said, "Didn't Holtzmann say you were her first friend?"

"Yeah, well, friend and Ehrlinspiel are not the same, I guess," Abby answered with a shrug.

"Dr. Gorin is a mentor, not a friend," mused Erin.

"They must have been dating or something. Holtzmann does not have the dance of someone who doesn't know the rhythm of the night, if you know what I mean. The forbidden dance," Patty said.

"Even Kevin would know what you mean," Abby said. 

"What?" said Kevin, perking up at the mention of his name.

"What's the forbidden dance?" Erin asked him.

With a puzzled frown, Kevin said, "Jazzercise?" 

"Never mind," Abby called. She muttered, "It's like he's an alien from space."

"You know I'm right about Holtzmann," Patty said, miming a little hip thrust.

"Yeah, yeah," Abby said. 

"Wow, wouldn't it be funny to be a fly on the wall in that cafe." Erin smiled. 

Abby grinned. "Uncomfortable."

Patty began to smirk. "Fucked up."

The laughter rose and turned into whoops of hilarity. As they turned to each other, wiping the tears out of their eyes, a sudden, singular impulse flashed into all of their brains.

"Let's go."


End file.
